Boya Lake is the colour of the Caribbean. Boya Lake Provincial Park is located a few miles from the Yukon and BC border. Such a beautiful place, we stayed for two days. On the first evening, we celebrated my birthday with a spaghetti dinner made with the ground beef we dried in Vancouver. (it worked great) To complete the meal, we made some bannock and opened a bottle of red wine.
It is easy to stay up late in the north. The sky grew dark at midnight. It is
strange getting used to the long days and very short nights. The dawn comes at
four am. John has rigged up some tarps to cover the windows so we can get a
better sleep. I am sure we give the neighbours in their fancy RV’s a good laugh.
We love to entertain and might just pass the hat at the next stop.
Boya Lake is unusual in that it consists of many small bays and islands.
There is a four KM (round trip) nature walk to a beaver dam. Sounds pleasant. I grabbed us each an apple and we sprayed on the deet.
The path skirted the water’s edge for a little while then went into the woods
and over the hills. We scared a few grouse and came across some bear scat. The
trees are small lodgepole pine and black spruce with some trembling aspen for
variety. Walking in the woods has a calming effect on me. I appreciate it best
when I stand still, breathe in the aroma and listen. The symphony of nature is
good for the soul.
It worked so hard to build the dam from an island to the mainland, but could not
stop the flow of water. Silly beaver. We could see tree after tree that he had cut
down but was unable to drag to the water’s edge. A lot of work without any
results, but the poor critter keeps trying. The trail continued along the water’s
edge for a little while, then disappeared. Somehow we have taken a wrong turn.
We continued on in hopes of crossing the trail a little further on. It is
fairly easy walking, so it did not bother us.
I remembered that the lake had a
lot of bays, so we left the water and crossed over the hill to the other side.
Sure enough, there was another bay. Not the bay we had skirted on our way to
the beaver dam though. There was a lovely marsh at the end of the bay. We were
able to pick our way through the weeds by staying on the rocks. We can remember the many times we have spent time in the marshes looking for frogs or birds with various grandchildren. We head to the point knowing this must be the place we will cross the trail. In some parts we have to go into the woods because the shore is covered in brush. It is hard slugging to forge a trail in the wilderness, but we carry on. Past the moose scat and some bear dung… very fresh bear dung!
We made some noise to let him know we are here.
The next bay is still not the one we want. We are beginning to wonder if we are headed in the right direction. My toe starts to hurt. In the bay is a lovely little makeshift bench. I am encouraged knowing someone has been here before us. We ate our apples and enjoyed a bit of warmth from the sun while I let my toes loose for a dip in the cool water.
was easy around the next point and finally we saw signs of the campground.
Before long we found the trail. What was supposed to be a four km hike turned into a marathon and took us all afternoon, BUT we were NOT lost!